All Leads Lead to the Leed's Devil
by Tanya Tsuki
Summary: America doesn't believe in the supernatural, but the Jersey Devil just might change his mind.


_Disclaimer: APH and its characters do not belong to me. Once again, there are a few notes to go along with this story, if you're interested hop on over to my Livejournal to read them._

**January 18, 1909**

America did not believe in the supernatural. Sure, he had heard stories from England when he was but a colony, not to mention the whispers among the other inhabitants of his land, but to him they were always just that…just stories. He grew older, the stories lost their magic, and when he realized that England honestly believed that there was such a thing as magic, and seriously believed he saw fairies and other supernatural beings, America just chalked it up to his care taker being slightly (ok, maybe a little more than slightly) off his rocker due to years of constant civil war. Regardless of America's views, England tried again and again to get America to believe, but to no avail. America still did not believe in the supernatural.

Then, reports of a devil in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey began to surface, but America did his best to ignore it. After all, the supernatural didn't exist. The citizens were probably just seeing a rare creature and fear of the unknown was causing their imaginations to go into overdrive. Yet, January 18, 1909, something happened. America wasn't sure what happened, but there were sightings of an odd and terrifying beast, and there were what could only be described as hoof prints in the snow that defied all logic and reason. Despite his belief that there was no supernatural, America felt like he had to check it out. Something was terrifying his people and as a hero, America couldn't ignore them in good conscience. So America hurried to a snowy neighborhood in Burlington, fully expecting to find a logical explanation to the "mysterious" footprints. Upon his arrival, however, America got the distinct impression that it wasn't going to be a quick open and shut case.

"How the hell does that happen?" He wondered aloud, voicing the sentiments of the other onlookers. America had expected hoof prints along the ground. What he was not expecting was finding the hoof prints on the ground, on roofs, in inaccessible areas, and making impossible jumps from location to location. For the first time in well over a century, America entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something to the supernatural after all. But, prints in the snow, while odd, aren't definitive evidence of an otherworldly being, and America was excited to get to the bottom of things. A hero never backs down from a challenge, and this one sure seemed like it would be interesting.

**January 19, 1909**

America had gotten very little sleep the previous night. He had plans to stay at an Inn in Burlington before setting out on a trail to search for the supposed Jersey Devil, but word of mouth woke him at 4 in the morning saying that there had been a sighting in Gloucester County. Apparently the beast had stood on top of a couple's shed for a good ten minutes before being scared off by the wife saying 'Shoo.' Quick as a flash America was out of bed and heading towards Gloucester where he met up with up with two perplexed men.

"Good morning!" America said brightly, grinning. The two men gave him a tired look, silently asking what he wanted. "I heard that the beast was sighted near here. Do you happen to know anything?" The men looked at each other, and the shorter one finally nodded.

"Yes, sir. He was a-top the Evans' shed a coupla hours ago. He was a ghastly beast. Three feet high or so, head like a dog, face like a horse. Long neck. Wings almost as long as it was. Back legs like a crane and hooves like a horse. Its two front legs were held up in front of its body, but there were paws or claws I don't know. I didn't really see it well. But it was hideous, I'm sure!" He let out in one breath, shaking in fear. He looked as if he would say more but shook his head, motioning for his friend to continue.

"John here and I, y'see, we're professional muskrat hunters," the other man started, and America gave a proud grin that the man would have found odd had he been paying attention, "And we decided that we'd put an end to the abomination and so we decided to track it. We followed the tracks and it was I don't even know. They jumped to areas over five feet high, and yet, managed to squeeze into areas not even eight inches high! I've never seen anything like it."

"And if we're lucky, we won't see anything like it again," His friend, John, spoke up. "I ain't leaving my house without my gun again. What kind of creature can do that? He's got to be a beast of the devil." The other man nodded gravely before lifting his head to look America in the eyes.

"You ain't going after him, are ya?"

America gave them a confident smile and nodded. "Of course I am. There's something scaring everyone, and I'm a hero. I won't back down based only on odd tracks and hearsay. Tell me, did you two actually see the beast?" The men shook their heads. "So you only saw the tracks and heard about the being from someone else?" Two nods. "Thank you for your help," America said sincerely before turning and walking away. Once again, only tracks in the snow and rumors. No hard evidence. Humming a tune from his Revolutionary days, America made his way to Camden County. Burlington and Gloucester had yielded only prints, but perhaps the prints would meet in the middle. It was worth trying, anyway.

**January 20, 1909**

America let out a sigh before taking a sip of coffee. Once again, there had been many reported sightings, and this time, America happened to be around in time to join a search party in Haddonfield. They spent all day and a good portion of the evening following tracks that kept disappearing into thin air. Someone claimed to have spotted the beast heading north towards Moorestown, but by the time he had gotten the attention of the rest of the party, there was nothing there. All in all, it had been a pointless waste of a day, and America had been looking forward to getting drunk with the locals and laughing away the cold and the perpetual hysteria. Of course, he hadn't expected this to be a dry borough, nor did he expect most of the townspeople staying inside their homes because there was a devil out there. As far as America was concerned, mysterious though the tracks were, his people were getting riled up over nothing. With another sigh, America placed money on the table before leaving. The constant moving was getting a bit ridiculous but then again, what did he expect when he decided to chase a being that didn't exist?

**January 21, 1909**

America was tired. None of the inns he had passed were open, so he kept moving, finally deciding to jump on a trolley in Haddon Heights sometime after midnight. As he leaned his head against a window, America was on the verge of falling asleep when he heard a bizarre hissing noise. A woman's scream jerked him fully awake, and America turned to look out the window, shocked at what he saw. There, heading straight for them was the oddest creature America had ever seen. A long neck…wings on its back…long, slender legs…short arms…The trolley driver had stopped the trolley, and, quick as a flash, America was out the door, ignoring the shouts to "Stay inside! It's not safe out there!"

"Hey!" He yelled at the creature. "What do you think you're doing, scaring my people?!" The beast looked at him, gave what only could be called a menacing grin, and flew off, the hissing sound trailing behind. America tried to give chase, calling after it to "Stop! Come back!" but the creature ignored him and eventually, the Nation had to stop running, it was too dark and the beast had already left his field of vision. Bewildered and out of breath, America stood on the lonely street, not entirely sure what he had just seen. Was it the Jersey Devil? Or was it simply a malformed bird? Could it have been his sleep deprived imagination? He wasn't sure, but, as much as he hated to admit it, there was something.

Later that day, America found himself sitting in another restaurant, penning a letter to the one person who might be able to give him advice on what to do. As he took a sip of the lukewarm coffee, a man ran in, waving a piece of paper. "The Devil's been sighted in Camden! He was seen—actually seen!—attacking a dog! A woman beat it off with her broom, and chased it away! Then, the Devil went to Atlantic City and guess what? He was shot! Can you believe it? Jus' like that, he's gone!" The man's announcement was met with cheers all around, and America smiled as their relief filled the room.

"Hopefully now things will get back to normal," He said to himself as he shoved the unfinished letter to England into his pocket. If the Devil was gone, then there was no need to ask for advice, right?

**A Couple of Weeks Later**

"Mr. Kirkland, sir?" England looked up at the door where one of the newer secretaries stood.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I have a letter for you, sir, from a Mr. Jones."

England let out a bark of laughter. "I thought I told you to chuck any letters from any Mr. Jones."

"Well, you did, sir, but Mr. Jones sent to letters. One addressed to you, and one addressed to, and I quote, 'the unlucky sap who has to give Artie his mail' and it asked that we make sure you get this letter and implore you to read it. He claims it is a matter of national importance."

England sighed. That ex-colony of his could be annoying at times. "Fine. Let me have the letter, then." The letter was pressed into his hand and, as quickly as he could, the 'unlucky sap' was out the door.

As he opened the letter, England expected it to be full of America's so-called heroic rambling and going on and on about how awesome he was. What he didn't expect was the shaky handwriting that reminded him of a scared child's.

"_January 22, 1909._

Dear England.

How are you? Fine, I hope.

Well, how do I put this? I'm sorry I ever mocked you for seeing fairies and, well, you know, being into that magical stuff. I always thought you were insane because of all of those civil wars.

What brought this around? Well, have you heard about the Devil hidden somewhere in my east coast? I always thought it was just a ghost story, but this whole week has been a week of terror.

There were all of these sightings and like, the only proof of anything being weird were these tracks that were ridiculous. They would jump six-feet high, they would squeeze under eight-inch spaces, they would disappear into thin air, and other weird things like that. People kept claiming to see this beast, but I never once was able to talk to these witnesses, and you know how second hand information can be inaccurate, right?

But then, get this, last night I actually saw it! It had these really short arms, really long legs, wings, horns on its head, a really scary face…it was like something out of my worst nightmare! I chased it, but it disappeared before I could catch up to it completely.

I'm fairly positive it was just my lack of sleep and my mind playing tricks on me, but then there was a report of this woman's dog being attacked and then someone shot it (the Devil, I mean, not the dog. The dog reportedly lived) and so it should have been dead, right? But then, this morning, there were more bizarre tracks!

England, my people are scared and I don't know what to do. The supernatural has always been your thing, you know? Do you have any advice? Please say you do. You know I don't like asking you for help, but this is your area of expertise…I'll promise to stop mocking you for believing in magic _for a little while, anyway__ ._

I really really hope to hear from you soon!

Sincerely, the awesome America," England read aloud, amused despite himself.

America was asking for his help? Well, maybe he would help...maybe. Not tonight though. Tonight would be spent relishing this rare moment. Then again, America had to be scared since he asked him for help. What could it hurt to give a few pieces of advice? Still wavering between his choices, England called his secretary for a new cup of tea. Having some tea would help to make his decision easier.


End file.
